


Three Strand Braid

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Slavery, fenris and dorian have issues, fenris and dorian learn the value of communication, fenris goes after what he wants, mentions of cullen's withdrawal, pair becoming a trio, they overcome them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: Fenris and Dorian have come a long way from their first fractious weeks of knowing each other. Now they look at Cullen and see a way they could become something more.Written for the Black Emporium 2017 fanwork exchange for Starla-Nell (Princess-Nell). I hope you enjoy it.





	Three Strand Braid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/gifts).



Fenris watched Commander Cullen step out onto the battlements and leaned heavily against the outer wall. Even from this distance, he looked ill and shaky. “It’s withdrawal, isn’t it?”

“Hmmm?”

Dorian didn’t look away from his book. They were sitting on the battlements, tucked into a corner that put them in the sunlight but shielded them from the breeze. Dorian was sitting on a cushion while Fenris was lounging on the ground on a blanket with his head in the mage’s lap, enjoying the way Dorian had almost automatically started running his hand through his hair. They were both warm and up until the movement of the door to the Commander’s office had drawn his attention, Fenris had been very close to dozing.

It was a situation he’d never expected to find himself in. When he’d arrived at Skyhold, Varric had warned him about the Tevinter mage in the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle and how he was nothing like Danarius. That wasn’t entirely true but Fenris knew what Varric had meant by it – not that Dorian wasn’t a mage, not that he didn’t have all the airs and habits of someone from a magisterial family but that he wasn’t planning on enslaving Fenris and treating him like a thing. Not that he’d believed it. Not then and not for a long time. 

He hadn’t had much contact with Dorian at first. Fenris was not part of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle and his missions had taken him to different places. They had met each other in passing a few times but had never spoken and Fenris had been happy with that state of affairs. But then the Venatori had started getting clever and even Leliana’s best people had been unable to infiltrate their base of operations. No matter how good they were, they weren’t of Tevinter and it showed just enough to have them found out.

So Dorian, Fenris and Cremisius Aclassi had been sent on the mission to see whether they could succeed where Leliana’s people had failed. 

It had not gone well. 

While it was true that they _had_ managed to root out the Venatori and send them packing, it had not really been as a result of anything Dorian or Fenris had done. All _they’d_ done was get each other captured and languish in the dungeon, sniping at each other as to whose fault it had been, while Krem had rallied the locals, invaded the stronghold, routed the Venatori then rescued them. Though from the irritated look he’d given them as he’d let them out, he’d apparently been very tempted to leave them there.

When they’d arrived back at Skyhold, Krem had gone directly to the Inquisitor and before Dorian or Fenris could say anything, he’d given Adaar a _comprehensive_ report about what had happened, warts and all. He’d then washed his hands of the whole affair and headed off to Orlais with the Chargers on a new mission. Adaar had been somewhat less than impressed with both of them. Fenris might have convinced himself not to care but he _liked_ Kaaras Adaar. He was a good man, a kind and just leader and he respected Fenris. So instead he’d ended up feeling a touch guilty and from the way Dorian had been squirming, the feeling was mutual.

He couldn’t quite remember who had made the first move, just that two nights later, they’d found themselves at the same table on the upper level of the tavern, staring at each other over their goblets of wine, neither exactly sure how to start.

There had been a lot of arguments. They both had a lot of sharp edges and neither had been terribly concerned back then about whether those edges might hurt the other, not at first. But then the discussion had turned to blood magic and that was their first common ground. Then late one night, after far too much wine, Dorian had spilled the story of what his father had tried to do to him. Fenris, with Danarius as his example, had always been aware of the depths of depravity to which the Magisters of Tevinter were willing to stoop but this had startled even him. That a Magister had been willing to risk the life and mind of his own son – his _only_ son – was not something he’d expected. A slave, yes, but a beloved if somewhat wayward _son_?

They’d avoided each other for a few days after that. Dorian because he’d talked about something he usually kept a strict secret and Fenris because he was having to reorganise some of his preconceptions about the man and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. He’d _liked_ being able to put Dorian in a little box and not have to think about the man anymore. It was easy and comfortable.

But they’d found themselves back at what was becoming ‘their’ table once again, their conversation initially stilted then flowing more freely until they tripped over their next hurdle – slavery. It had been inevitable in hindsight. Dorian’s opinions were… thoughtless in every meaning of the word. They were cruel and tactless but they were also simply lacking in thought. Dorian had never really given slavery much thought because slavery was a constant. Blood magic was officially frowned upon even if it was practised furtively. Slavery, however, was just the background noise of Dorian’s life and he’d never thought about it except that it had to be better than starving in the street.

The argument that ensued had been loud, vicious and spiteful and had eventually required them to be physically separated by Bull, Adaar and Varric. Adaar had wisely decided that the next day was the ideal time to go and investigate the Hissing Wastes and he desperately needed Dorian with him. They’d left before dawn with Bull and Cole. Fenris had found himself with an assignment chasing down slavers who were taking advantage of the chaos. Varric, who had loudly proclaimed that he and Bianca were bored and in need of entertainment, had accompanied him. Fenris had not questioned it. Varric had always been good company and was better than most at picking up when Fenris truly didn’t want to talk and when he could be jollied into a better mood with an outlandish tale or three.

Fenris had been in a much better mood when he and Varric returned. Killing slavers always did that. In fact, he’d been in such a good mood that when Dorian approached him, he didn’t even threaten to shove his hand into the man’s chest. It was just as well. Dorian had been uncharacteristically pensive and quiet and instead of getting defensive or angry, he’d instead simply asked questions and listened to Fenris’ answers. The questions had not been overly comfortable but Fenris had answered them anyway. Dorian had been _listening_ instead of simply dismissing everything he said as an overreaction.

Dorian had gone away after that and Fenris hadn’t seen him for a few days. He had then turned up to ‘their’ table, sat down with two goblets and a bottle of truly _excellent_ wine (which he later admitted he’d stolen from Josephine) and simply said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. If I’m going to overturn thousands of years of Tevinter tradition, I have no excuse not to include slavery in that as well.”

Fenris had been so startled at being actually _apologised_ to by an Altus that he hadn’t even thought to look for ulterior motives. He’d later realised there were none. Dorian might be arrogant and convinced of his own intellectual superiority but he was capable of admitting when he was wrong and apologising. The conversation that had followed had been tentative and occasional fractious but Fenris had found himself interested anyway. Dorian had some grand plans and when he’d commented on the danger involved, the mage had just laughed wryly and said that if he was going to be assassinated, he might as well make the reason for it worthwhile.

That night had begun an initially tentative friendship. 

They’d been watched, of course. After nearly coming to blows, Fenris hadn’t been surprised when their subsequent meetings were subtly… or not so subtly… monitored. Mostly it had been Bull who’d kept a careful eye on them but every now and then Adaar had come in to see how things were going. One evening both Bull and Adaar had joined them and a very convivial evening was had by all. Both Fenris and Dorian had drunk _far_ too much and when they’d finally reeled out of the tavern, they’d each had an arm wrapped around each other and they’d been laughing over Adaar’s last joke before they left.

Fenris hadn’t been sure at the time who had kissed who first. Even just a few months prior, he’d have sooner shoved his hand into Dorian’s chest as kiss him but once they’d become friends, he’d been forced to admit to himself that Dorian was a very attractive man. As their friendship had progressed, he’d also been forced to admit that he liked him. That had led to several days of very grumpy behaviour before he’d come to terms with it, something helped by the fact that he had been certain that nothing was ever going to happen to make him have to think more about it.

As it turned out, he had been wrong. The kiss had been followed by another and another until they’d finally broken apart when they were breathless. Dorian had been leaning against the wall of the stronghold and Fenris had been pressed heavily against him. For a moment, they’d just stared at each other then Fenris had watched as Dorian had swallowed hard and licked his lips.

“We’re very drunk.”

Fenris had nodded. “We are.”

“As pleasant as this is,” Dorian continued. “I’d rather wait until we were sober.”

Fenris had arched an eyebrow. “You think you’re taking advantage of me.”

“We are very drunk.”

Fenris remembered how much he’d considered that statement. He had indeed been drunk so it had been a slow process before he’d finally said with the tiniest of smirks, “You know I could kill you right now, drunk or not?”

Dorian had arched an eyebrow and looked wryly amused. “Well, that’s quite the mood killer.”

“I’m saying that I am hardly helpless,” Fenris had replied, his smirk widening.

“That, I know.” Dorian had brushed his fingers along Fenris’ cheek, making him shiver. “But contrary to my usual way of doing things, we are not doing this drunk, not without talking about boundaries and expectations first.”

Fenris had eyed him for a long moment then nodded. He’d been somewhat surprised. Apart from Isabela, he’d never had anyone care about his welfare before when it came to sex. That it had been Dorian doing that had been a surprise but a pleasant one.

And they had indeed talked about it the next night. There had been wine involved but nowhere near as much as the previous night and when they’d tumbled into Dorian’s bed, they’d both been all but sober.

Their relationship had not progressed smoothly. Neither of them had any experience in such things so they’d made their mistakes and there had been fights and temper tantrums and occasional bouts of sulking. They’d worked things out though until they found themselves where they were now, sitting peacefully on the battlements, indulging in gentle displays of affection that neither of them would have thought possible in the past.

Fenris drew himself out of his memories and back to the subject at hand. “Cullen. It’s withdrawal, isn’t it?”

Dorian’s attention was drawn immediately away from his book and over to the man in question. “Yes, I believe so but the man is being a stubborn fool about it.”

Fenris contemplated the matter in silence. “You’ve offered him help?”

“He’s refused, damn the man,” Dorian replied. “As if vice isn’t well known in Tevinter.”

Fenris snorted with amusement. “That it is.”

As they watched, Cullen rested his forehead against the stone wall of the tower that held his office. An idea came to Fenris’ mind that had him both curious and reeling away from it in horror at the same time. His first reaction as to reject it utterly but… he’d come a long way from the person he’d been in Kirkwall, who had viewed everyone and everything with suspicion, sure that everyone he met was eager to enslave him again. Hawke had helped with that but the Inquisition had helped more. He had learned to trust and that was something he’d never thought he’d be able to do. So rather than throw his thought away in fear and terror, he decided to voice it.

He held up one hand. “Do you think these would help?”

He looked up when Dorian didn’t say anything. His lover had a speculative look on his face as he thought. He set his book aside and took Fenris’ hand in his own, his fingers trailing along the markings in his palm, sending pleasant sparks along Fenris’ arm.

“It’s… possible,” he said finally. “What’s more I’m fairly certain that contact with the lyrium in your skin wouldn’t compromise his withdrawal.”

Fenris arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He wouldn’t be ingesting it,” Dorian said. He got a wicked look on his face. “Unless he licked your markings, that is, and even then I doubt it would hurt him.”

Fenris went very still at the mental image that presented then he shivered. Lying as he was, Dorian felt the shiver and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Liked that idea, did you?”

“He’s an attractive man,” Fenris said with a shrug. “A good one too.”

“I thought about seducing him at one time,” Dorian admitted. “But he’s not the man for a casual relationship.”

Fenris looked amused. “Neither are you.”

Dorian chuckled. “Well, not anymore.”

As they continued to watch, Cullen pushed away from the wall and ran a hand down his face. He drew in a deep breath then disappeared inside his office again.

“Have you ever considered it?” Fenris asked carefully. One thing he’d learned in this relationship was the value of communication. Both he and Dorian were a mess of issues and preconceived notions and their early interactions had taught them that when they talked, things got better. If they liked something, they said it. If they were unsure or didn’t like something, they said something. It had been a hard lessons for both of them to learn but once they had, it had only made their relationship stronger.

Dorian raised an eyebrow at him. “Considered what?”

“Cullen… joining us?”

Dorian simply stared at him for a long enough time for Fenris to feel uncomfortable then the mage swallowed. “I’ll admit it’s crossed my mind once or twice, in a rather ‘wanting to have my cake and eat it too’ sort of way. But I am happy with you. It seems rude to be greedy.” He blinked. “Unless you…?”

Fenris shrugged as best as he could. “I… care for you. I like him. You like him. I know you do. I think he likes us.”

“A relationship,” Dorian said slowly. “Not just a one-time thing.”

“It’s a thought.”

They both dropped the subject then and went back to what they had been doing. Neither of them completely dismissed the idea and they both thought about it and then talked about it quite a lot over the next few days before finally agreeing to approach the Commander together. Over dinner. As Dorian said, there was no need to be gauche about it.

Cullen certainly didn’t suspect what they were up to. Partly because the man was clearly suffering with his withdrawal and partly because it wasn’t the first time he’d had meals with them. Fenris had come by his knowledge of Cullen’s possible feelings quite honestly. He’d learned to become observant when he’d been on the run and those skills hadn’t been lost. He’d seen the expressions on Cullen’s face when he looked at them, both individually and together, at some of those dinners. He just hadn’t been sure what to do about it before now.

Dorian and Fenris deliberately kept the meal light and pleasant and they were pleased to see Cullen relax and some of the pinched look on his face fade as the meal progressed. When it was done, they moved over to the couch and armchairs in front of the fireplace and settled in. Dorian offered Cullen wine and when he politely refused, Fenris decided to get things moving.

“Perhaps I can offer an alternative?”

Cullen looked at him with confusion. “What? An alternative?”

Fenris got up and walked over. He paused for a moment then placed one palm on Cullen’s cheek. The former Templar gasped and went still then his eyes closed and he slumped a little. 

“Fenris,” he said hoarsely and it seemed to be taking all his strength not to grab at Fenris.

“We thought this might work,” Dorian said calmly. He came over and started working at the straps of Cullen’s armour. “Here, let’s get all this off. Maker’s breath, man, this is supposed to be relaxation, not a strategy meeting.”

“Didn’t have time to change,” Cullen said, sounding a little dazed.

Fenris frowned at his reaction. “Should I…?”

Dorian shook his head. “No, it’s alright.”

He quickly divested Cullen of his armour and his furred cloak and then he grinned at Fenris and nodded. Fenris quickly swung himself astride Cullen’s lap and slid both hands along his shoulders under his shirt. Cullen’s eyes widened and he tried to move but Dorian moved to brace Fenris by standing behind him and Fenris bore down on Cullen’s lap, exerting his weight and strength.

“Fenris… Dorian…” Cullen looked stunned and shocked and wary. He was holding his hands out to either side and Dorian chuckled and grabbed his wrists, bringing them to rest on Fenris’ waist. Cullen gulped then said faintly, “I don’t understand.”

“We’re seducing you,” Fenris said bluntly. “Would it help you think if I took my hands away?”

Cullen blinked then tentatively shook his head. “Um… no? It… I feel… better.” He licked his lips. “But is it…?”

“It’s safe,” Dorian said, correctly divining his question. “You’re not ingesting the lyrium. It can’t hurt you or make things worse.”

Cullen nodded but he still looked confused. “Then… what…?”

Dorian wrapped an arm around Fenris’ waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. He took a moment to press a kiss onto his cheek before he spoke.

“We’re both rather fond of you and we agree that you’re devilishly handsome. We like you and we rather think you like us. So we decided that it would be foolish not to see if you were interested in making this into a trio.”

“A…” Cullen frowned and looked away, though both Dorian and Fenris noticed that he did not remove his hands from Fenris’ waist. “I… I’m not really… I can’t…”

“A relationship,” Fenris said, drawing Cullen’s attention back to them. He smiled slightly. “Dorian and I learned that talking is a good thing.”

Cullen smiled faintly at that. “Was that Bull’s advice or Adaar’s?

“Mostly a personal revelation for both of us but Bull did make a few suggestions,” Dorian admitted. “We like you, Cullen. We could all sit around and be miserable and pine, which is admittedly what I would normally do. Fenris is far more direct. It’s delightful. Anyway. We could pine away at each other or we could… try this.”

“I… don’t have much experience,” Cullen admitted, blushing. “I’m not a… a virgin but… the Templars didn’t encourage relationships.”

“Then you’ve got about as much as experience as we did coming into this,” Dorian said wryly. “We’re going to make mistakes, Cullen, and we’re going to hurt each other. We talk about it. Fenris and I learned that one the hard way.”

They could see the yearning expression on Cullen’s face underneath the doubt and uncertainty. “I…” Cullen gulped. “Yes,” he whispered.

Fenris smiled and leaned forward, drawing his hands up to cup Cullen’s face between them. “Good answer.”

He closed the gap and kissed Cullen. He enjoyed taking the lead when it came to affection and sex. He’d spent so many years forced into the passive role that being able to take the initiative was exciting to him. He was always careful though, to make sure that Dorian liked and wanted what he was doing. He would never let himself fall into Danarius’ shoes. And he had his proof that Cullen was enjoying this, wanted this, in the way the man clutched at him and drew him closer, the way he returned the kiss, perhaps a little inexpertly but definitely with enthusiasm.

“That was lovely to watch. You’re both so pretty together,” Dorian said a little breathlessly when they finally parted. Fenris could feel the proof of Dorian’s reaction pressed into the small of his back. “May I?”

He raised an eyebrow at Cullen and when the man nodded, he leaned in, pressing Fenris between them and captured Cullen’s mouth with his own. Fenris could see that Dorian’s kiss was gentler than his own. More seductive and sly. He smirked. He’d been on the receiving end of kisses like that and when Dorian finally pulled away, the whimper and the dazed look on Cullen’s face were very familiar.

“I see what you mean,” he said.

Dorian chuckled then brushed his fingers along Cullen’s cheek. “We won’t be doing much more than this tonight, Cullen.” He placed a finger over Cullen’s mouth when he tried to protest. “We did spring this on you tonight and I think we should get you to something a little closer to equilibrium with your withdrawal.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “How… how did you know?”

Both Fenris and Dorian snorted. “I saw it on the streets in Kirkwall,” Fenris replied. “With the Templars Meredith kicked out.”

“And vice is practically a national sport in Tevinter,” Dorian said dryly. “I’ve seen withdrawal before.”

Cullen looked slightly ashamed. “I… it’s been bad recently.”

“We suspected,” Dorian replied. He smiled. “We’d like you in top condition before we have our way with you.”

Cullen blushed but when he looked at them, there was lust and desire in his eyes. “You, uh…” He swallowed. “You could do that now. I’m not that badly off.”

Fenris sucked in a breath and Dorian chuckled. “Oh, Commander, our dear Commander, not quite the innocent choir boy that you appear to be, are you?”

Cullen’s blush stained his cheeks and spread down his neck. “I…” He licked his lips and seemed to gather his courage. “I’m inexperienced, not incapable.”

Dorian leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, tsking slightly when Cullen chased him for more when he pulled away. “Oh, we definitely want you in tip-top condition, Amatus, before we take you apart.”

Fenris picked up the thread. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stop this now.”

He managed a low laugh as Cullen practically growled and pulled him close. The Commander’s kiss was full of want and desire and Fenris groaned into it. He felt Dorian’s hands slide over Cullen’s on his hips before they slid round to rest on his stomach. Dorian eased his way between Cullen’s knees and pressed tightly against Fenris’ back. When he and Cullen parted, Dorian drew his shirt off and then encouraged him to lean back against him.

“He’s such a lovely sight, isn’t he, Cullen?” Dorian murmured, his hands drifting over Fenris’ shoulders and chest. “You can touch him, you know?”

Cullen still sought Fenris’ approval and Fenris smiled and nodded, pleased that Cullen would do so. He let out a soft sigh when Cullen started soft caresses along his chest and stomach and let his eyes drift into a half-closed state. He’d been horribly self-conscious about his markings when he’d first revealed them to Dorian, fearful that the mage would see him as nothing more than a magical battery. Dorian, however, had been horrified and angry and had lavished them with attention while making promises to _never_ take advantage of them. There was still a part of Fenris that was fearful but that part was fading with every day that passed. Later, Dorian had admitted that he found the markings aesthetically beautiful. He’d sounded rather ashamed to admit that but Fenris had just laughed. He knew what they looked like but Dorian’s open admiration was far preferable to Danarius’ lascivious possessiveness.

Cullen leaned forward and kissed the centre of his chest before resting his forehead there and breathing deeply. Fenris ran his hands through Cullen’s hair, amusing himself by teasing out whatever it was he used in it until it curled the way he remembered it from Kirkwall.

“I know what you’re doing, Fenris,” Cullen said, his voice muffled but clearly amused.

Dorian chuckled. “I had wondered why Varric called you Curly. They’re delightful, Cullen.”

“They’re unprofessional,” Cullen grumped. 

“You don’t need to be professional here,” Fenris said. He scratched lightly at Cullen’s scalp and felt the man sigh and relax against him. “Headache?”

“Always,” Cullen said wearily, another sigh gusting against Fenris’ skin.

Fenris tilted his head back so that he could arch an eyebrow at Dorian. The mage nodded and dropped a kiss onto Fenris’ forehead.

“I think bed would be the best place you for, Cullen,” Dorian said. “And lucky for you, our bed is large and comfortable and has us in it.”

Cullen raised his head with surprise. “I thought…”

“Just sleep,” Fenris said. He narrowed his eyes critically. “You need it.”

Cullen sighed. “I… don’t sleep well,” he admitted. “Nightmares.”

“You have another thing in common with us,” Dorian said, his tone airy and light but his expression serious. “You need not fear we will get upset. Now, bed.”

Cullen smiled slightly. “There is a slight problem with that.”

“I suppose you want me to move?” Fenris said, a faint smile playing over his lips.

“No,” Cullen said with a far too innocent look on his face that delighted both of them. “Just Dorian.”

Dorian stepped back with alacrity and gave a flourish, his grin saying he had an idea of what Cullen was planning. “Be my guest.”

Fenris gave a sharp barking laugh as Cullen wrapped his arms around him and surged to his feet. He retaliated by wrapping his legs around the man’s waist and allowed himself to be carried to the bed. Once there he slithered down Cullen’s body, enjoying the way the man swallowed and blushed and cursed, then he gave the man a nudge until he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Know that I do this for very few people,” he said as he went to his knees to remove Cullen’s boots.

“You don’t…” Cullen began, reaching out with one hand.

Fenris shook his head. “No. I choose to do this.” He paused and looked up. “I _want_ to do this.”

Cullen hesitated for a moment then nodded. Fenris pulled his boots off then reached up to pluck at the laces of his breeches. Cullen blushed but lifted his hips to allow Fenris to pull them off. As he was doing that, Dorian was cleaning up their plates and setting them outside the door for the servants and dousing most of the candles in the room. He’d normally complain long and loud and mostly frivolously about such menial labour but he didn’t want to break the mood Fenris had created, a mood that had Cullen calm and pliable and looking like he was actually willing to rest.

Once Cullen was in the bed, Fenris stripped down to his own smallclothes and slid in beside him. Cullen was stiff and uncertain until Fenris shuffled closer to him and then the other man slowly pulled him close. Behind them, Dorian blew out all but two of the candles and stripped off himself. He walked over to the bed and looked down at the two of them.

“What a lovely sight in my bed.”

“Our bed,” Fenris mumbled, happily snuggling closer to Cullen’s chest and tucking his head underneath the man’s chin.

“Mmm, yes,” Dorian climbed into the bed and shifted until he was behind Cullen. He threw his arm over the man’s waist and let his hand rest on Fenris’ side.

“I…” Cullen was silent for a moment then said very plaintively, “This isn’t a joke, is it?”

Dorian pressed a kiss to the back of Cullen’s neck and felt the man shiver as Fenris nibbled on his jawline.

“Not a joke,” Fenris said.

“We’ll prove it to you in the morning,” Dorian added, his voice full of promise.

Cullen shuddered again and finally relaxed. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Fenris shifted just enough to exchange a look with Dorian. The mage was smiling happily and Fenris felt content as well. This wouldn’t be easy, not with the various issues the three of them had, but Fenris felt it had a chance to be very good.


End file.
